Red As Blood
by RC fic
Summary: AU from the pilot. Sam's missing and Dean's in a hurry to find him, but the fates keep throwing stuff, like the kid who looks just like Sam, into Dean's path, slowing him down. Dean is not amused. Slash warning. SamDeanJared
1. Chapter 1

_Title_: Red As Blood, Ch. 2  
_Rating_: R  
_Pairing:_ Dean/Jared, will become Sam/Dean/Jared  
_Disclaimer:_ This is a work of fiction

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Dean grunted and rolled over, smashing his phone into the mattress before getting a grip and flipping it open.

"Yeah?" He croaked, glaring at the clock as it glared **4:36am** back at him.

"Dean Winchester?" A woman's voice on the other end, unfamiliar and shaky.

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"Are you Sam's brother?"

Dean sat up, a bad feeling curdling in his gut. "Yeah, and you are?"

"Oh god. I'm one of Sam's friends from school, Becky." She broke off and Dean realized she was crying. "There was a fire at Sam's apartment. Jessica's dead, but Sam... no one knows what happened to Sam. The only remains they found were Jessica's."

"My God," Dean paused to process. "Wait, who's Jessica?"

"Sam's girlfriend -- you didn't know Jessica?" Becky sounded suspicious, but Dean didn't have the energy to come up with a story for her.

"No, Sam and I . . . haven't exactly been close lately."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Dean, but Sam may be okay... wherever he is."

Dean thanked her for calling and hung up with a promise to call her if he needed a place to stay in Palo Alto. He stared at nothing for a while before shaking himself. Sam was out there somewhere, and _he was okay_, Dean just had to find him.

He called John and left a voicemail to let him know that Dean wouldn't be going after that poltergeist in Anaheim after all. He knew that would get him a quick call back, and twenty minutes later, Dean was on his way to northern California.

--

Palo Alto revealed nothing, didn't give Dean one clue as to what might have happened to Sam. He learned that the beautiful blonde girl he'd seen with Sam a couple of times had been Jessica. Dean also learned that Sam was just as happy here, with Jessica, as Dean had thought all those times he'd snuck onto Stanford's campus and watched from the sidelines.

After speaking with John, Dean was headed east, back to Lawrence, Kansas. God, he couldn't believe he had to go back to that town. But John insisted, telling Dean about a friend of his, a psychic who still lived there. John wasn't sure she'd have any answers either, but he figured she was their best bet for a lead.

Dean was lost in thought when he saw it, his headlights picked up a large..._ something_ on the side of the road, looked like a body. Dean backed up and turned his car so that the lights were resting on the mysterious mass. The road was pretty much abandoned, so Dean didn't hesitate to grab a shotgun before stepping out of the car.

It was a teenage boy, his jeans and t-shirt bloodied and torn as his body. Dean knelt next to him, carefully setting the shotgun down, but keeping it within his reach. He grasped a shoulder and rolled the boy gently onto his back. The kid whimpered, but didn't come to.

"Damnit," Dean muttered, standing and going back over to get some holy water out of the trunk. The kid didn't even whimper at the holy water, but Dean had already figured out this was just a regular hurt kid, who Dean would _have_ to take the time to help. "Son of a bitch."

It was only as Dean tried to lift the boy that he realized how tall he must be, but he was skinny... definitely a beanpole. Dean snickered as he got the boy settled into the backseat, remembering when Sam had been nothing but skin and bones and _height_.

That thought just had him cursing his luck again. Dean didn't have time to be a good samaritan. He put his gun on the floor of the front seat, and glanced in the rearview mirror at the reflection of a broken boy. Dean sighed heavily, didn't look like he had a choice.

Dean stopped at a hotel in the first town he came to, and got a double. He carried his bags in first, before securing a blanket around the kid and taking him in. Dean gingerly set his burden down on the far bed, and pulled the blanket away. He grabbed a couple of washcloths and his medkit before settling next to the boy. He cut the t-shirt away first, carefully peeling away the sweat- and blood-soaked cotton.

Dean winced, noting long gashes across the boy's torso. He poked at them a bit and realized they weren't very deep, didn't even need stiches. His patient hissed and opened his eyes, staring at Dean through a glaze of pain.

"Easy there, kid." The boy's eyes rolled back in his head as he started to go under again, but Dean smacked his cheek. "Hey, stay with me a second. Can you tell me your name? Give me your folks' number?"

"Um . . . thirsty."

Dean about smacked himself and jumped to grab his bottled water. He supported the kid's head and let him sip, and Dean finally took a moment to study the battered face. "Holy shit!" He couldn't help the exclamation. He set the water down and ran a wet cloth over the boy's face. The kid blinked at him blearily and Dean felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Jared." His brows drew together in an all-too-familiar expression, and Dean bit his lip to keep from saying something crazy. "Do I know you?"

"I don't think so. Found you on the road, and it looks like something messed you up pretty good." When Dean realized the kid was almost unconscious again, he decided it was okay to release the crazy. "Oh, and you happen to look exactly like my little brother."

"Hmm, that's nice," Jared's voice trailed off as he turned his head into the pillow, and then he was out.

Dean realized that he was smiling softly at the boy and shook himself. This was a completely unexpected (and kind of cool) turn of events, but it wasn't getting him any closer to finding Sam. He got Jared cleaned up and bandaged, after making sure nothing was broken or needed stitches. Then he climbed into the other bed and passed out, knowing he had about four hours before he needed to hit the road again.

--

Dean smacked his phone into silence and rolled over to peer at the opposite bed. Jared was still there, snoring softly with his mouth agape. _Huh_, Dean thought, _not my imagination after all_.

He mulled over what to do about the kid as he got his junk together and showered. It was really tempting to take off without him, maybe just leave Jared some cash for bus fare. Dean paused over the sleeping boy, caught by that familiar face, and Dean knew he wouldn't be leaving without him. Dean had never left Sam; _Sam_ had left Dean.

_Whatever,_ he shrugged and squeezed Jared's shoulder, shaking him a little. Jared's eyes fluttered and opened. He frowned at Dean for a long moment before breaking into a bright smile that hit Dean hard. _Haven't seen that smile in years_… he thought. Even as battered and bruised as he was, Jared was an adorable kid.

"Who are you again? And where am I?" Jared asked, nose all scrunched up in confusion. He glanced away before Dean answered, grabbing the water from the nightstand and draining it in one go.

Dean smiled. "Dean Winchester and we're in the grand state of Utah. I found you in the middle of the road last night, beat to hell." He stepped back and looked the kid over. "I gotta tell ya, you're pretty ripe. You feel up to taking a shower?"

"Sure, man." Jared responded, shifting around and preparing to stand. He didn't get much further than the that though, falling back to the bed with a pained sound.

"Yeah, okay. How about I help you in there and you do what you can?" Dean stepped back in and held out his hands. Jared laughed in embarrassment and got a good grip, allowing Dean to pull him up. Hah! Jared was only an inch or so taller than Dean.

Dean led Jared into the bathroom and propped him against the sink. He stepped back slowly, ready to catch Jared if he lost his balance.

Jared smiled at him. "I think I'm good, thanks. Um… clothes?"

It suddenly hit Dean that this teenage boy had woken up in a stranger's hotel room, in nothing but a pair of boxers. Dean felt himself flush. "No, I--well, they were… I had to cut them off to get to your wounds."

Jared was just staring at him like he'd grown another head. "Yeah, I thought so. I just need something else to wear…"

"Oh. Yeah, no, I knew that. I was just--clothes! Okay, one second." Dean backed out of the bathroom, feeling like a complete idiot.

He heard the water run and turned to see Jared leaning over the sink. God, the kid was so bony it looked like his spine was trying to burst through the skin. Dean hurriedly picked out an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Since he wasn't about to give the kid used underwear, Dean just figured he'd let Jared keep the sweats.

Back in the bathroom, Jared was trying to wash his hair and not having much luck. Dean grabbed one of the complimentary cups and stepped up next to him. "Hey, want some help with that?"

"Sure." Jared's voice echoed up from the basin, as he kept his wet head down. At least his hair was short, just barely covering the tips of his ears.

Dean scrubbed the dirt, grit and grease from Jared's baby-fine hair and then set the clothes on the back of the toilet. He went out to grab coffee and a couple of croissants, and was happy to find Jared ready to go when he returned to the room. Dean paused to take an inventory of Jared's wounds in the light of day. Thankfully, the only visible injuries were the cut over his right eye, bruised cheekbone and chin, and the cuts on his forearms; two slashes on the right, one on the left. Dean would just give him a jacket if they needed to stop somewhere.

Once outside, Jared made all the appropriate cooing noises over the Impala, and Dean decided that this kid really may be all right. They got back onto Highway 50 and Dean turned his music down, but kept his eyes firmly forward.

"So… Jared. What's going on with you?"

"Er… what do you mean?" Jared tried to sound light, but Dean could see that he was biting his lip.

"Are you kidding me? I find you on the side of the road, looking half-dead. You wake up in a stranger's room and don't try to call your parents? Hell, you didn't even seem all that worried."

"Look man, if I tell you the truth, you're really not going to believe me." Jared had graduated to chewing on his fingertips now. That was weird, and it was doing weird things to Dean.

Dean looked away and snorted. "Try me, you'd be surprised by what I'm willing to believe."

Jared sighed heavily and turned to look out the window, raising one bony shoulder like a shield. "I got attacked by something last night. I don't know what it was, but…" He trailed off, struggling with words. Dean heard what Jared had already revealed--he'd been attacked by something, not some_one_--and he wanted this kid to tell him the truth, didn't want Jared to make something up.

"I'm a demon hunter."

Jared's head whipped around so fast Dean was afraid he'd sprained something. "Excuse me?"

"I hunt demons. Well… demons, spirits, zombies, supernatural creatures."

Jared was staring a hole into the side of Dean's face, waiting for the punchline. "Jared. I'm not kidding and I don't want you telling me a story. Now, what happened to you last night?"

Jared sighed, but it sounded like a good sigh. "I don't know, something I couldn't see tore me up. I couldn't fight it--thought I was going to die. It flung me around like a ragdoll, and then it started cutting me, so I--"

"Yeah?" Dean prompted.

"Um. I teleported."

Dean's brows shot up. "You teleported?"

"Yeah, it's amazing! I mean, I can't control it yet, but it saved my ass last night. I can't believe I ended up in Utah!" Okay, looked like Jared had officially broken out of his shell.

"Wow, seems like you really do have a story to tell me." Dean couldn't help but smile; it was hard to believe, but Dean had probably encountered stranger things, and Jared's excitement was infectious. He pushed a little harder on the gas pedal and let Jared's words flow over him. He wondered what Sam's reaction would be to Jared, and his smile cranked up another notch. That was a meeting he'd love to see. "Wait," Dean dug his phone out of his pocket and threw it at Jared. "Call your parents."

"Nah, I can't. They're gonna freak."

Dean took a deep breath; teenagers were so stupid. "So, you think they're not freaking out right now?"

Jared shifted guiltily. "Well yeah, but what am I gonna tell them? That I got attacked by an invisible monster and teleported to Utah?"

Dean frowned; kid had a point. "Tell them you took off with some friends. I can play the older brother or something."

"Hmph. That might work, but they're still gonna kill me when I get home."

"I don't care. Call them, or I pull over and let you hitch a ride back to--hey, where are you from, anyway?"

"San Antonio." Jared scowled at him, but picked up the phone and dialed.

Dean smirked and turned back to the road. He'd step away from Jared at lunch and give John a call. Only fair to give him a heads up on something like this.

--

They stopped to eat just outside of Grand Junction, Colorado. Dean motioned Jared to go ahead in and get a table, and then called his Dad.

Dean was shocked when John picked up on the second ring, answering with a gruff, "Dean, where are you?"

"Grand Junction--"

"What? I thought you'd almost be here by now."

Dean turned to check on Jared through the diner window. "Yeah, I know. Listen, I picked someone up--"

"Dean, what the hell?" John barked, cutting Dean off again.

"Sir, if you'd let me finish?" Dean didn't pause long enough for a response. "I found this kid on the side of the road, all beaten up. I patched him up and I'm bringing him with me 'cause... well, it's a long story. I wanted to give you a heads up though, 'cause he's the spitting image of Sam."

John took a moment to digest the news. "This kid looks _exactly_ like Sam?"

"Yeah, it's crazy."

"Dean, why on earth do you believe the thing you're with is human? Sounds like a shapeshifter or a changeling to me, and you're just driving around with it?" John's voice was rough with scorn and Dean felt himself flush.

"Dad, I'm not an idiot. Jared's human, all right? He just happens to look a lot like Sam. Yes, it's weird, but it's not like that kind of thing never happens naturally. I gotta go, but I'll see you soon. Should be there late tonight."

"Yeah. Think I got a couple of leads on Sammy. You just get here, soon as you can."

Dean closed his eyes as the bottled-up worry for Sam washed over him. "I will."

He hung up and headed into the diner, where mini-Not Sam awaited him. He dropped into the booth heavily and Jared looked up, quirking a brow.

Dean flashed a plastic smile. "Had to call my dad, let him know I'd be bringing company." His eyes dropped to the greasy menu in front of him and he sighed. "Jared, you mind if we get this to go?"

Jared's brow crinkled and he radiated concern, and Dean wished he wouldn't do that. "Sure, Dean. Um... I don't have my wallet or anything, so I--"

"Hey, I can take care of you for now. Don't worry about it, eat whatever you want."

Jared flashed him a sweet, sheepish smile. "Thanks, man. I'll pay you back, I promise."

Just then the waitress came by, and Dean's jaw dropped when she ruffled Jared's hair. "You know what you want yet, sugar?"

Jared ducked his head and gave her one of those smiles. "Sure, Rhonda. Can I have a cheeseburger with everything except onions, a grilled chicken breast, a salmon patty, a house salad and an order of cheese bread? Oh, and can I start with a bowl of your tortilla soup?"

Rhonda's eyes widened as she wrote, mirroring Dean's expression, but then she grinned in approval. "I guess no one's been starving you after all, honey. Got it." She turned to Dean. "And for you?"

Dean shook his head and ordered a single burger with fries.

"Oh, I forgot to get it to go." Jared started to stand, but Dean waved him back down.

"Nevermind, no way I want you eating all that in my car. Just don't take all day, and we'll be fine."

Jared was like bizarro Sam. At lunch, Dean had watched in amazement as Jared had everyone in a ten foot radius eating out of his large, ungainly hand within minutes. Even the fact that he talked with food in his mouth was endearing. Dean knew he should stop comparing Jared to Sam, but it wasn't like he could help it--they were like clones. The only thing Jared was missing was Sam's moles.

Dean had to wonder if Sam would have been like this without the fire, if he'd had a Mom to help shape him.

"So where's your brother? The one I'm supposed to look like?" Jared's question interrupted Dean's musings, and he frowned.

"I don't exactly know where Sam is. That's why I'm meeting my dad, he said he's got a couple of leads."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is everyone in your family a hunter?" Jared asked around a mouthful of sour candies. How he managed to sound sincere like that was beyond Dean, but he did.

"Yeah, sorta. Sammy left, went off to college, but he was raised to hunt." Dean really didn't want to talk about this anymore. "What about you? Got any brothers or sisters?"

"I have an older brother, Alex, and a younger sister, Melissa." He turned to look back out the window. "I don't know what to do, Dean. Jeff's my best friend, but how can I tell him about this stuff? I can't tell anyone, they're gonna think I'm crazy."

Dean sighed. "We'll figure something out. We have to get you back to your family, but not until it's safe. If you went back now, that thing would probably find you and your family. Here's more crazytalk for ya; the woman we're going to meet is a psychic. I guess she's helped my dad before, and I'm hoping she can help you."

Jared reached out and patted Dean on the shoulder. "I'm sure she'll help you find your brother, too."

Dean scowled, but melted a little inside. "Yeah, thanks."

He'd never come across a sweeter kid, and he wasn't sure how to react to Jared. Dean was used to kids being sarcastic and jerky and, you know, _kids_. Not that Sam hadn't been sweet, he had, but by the time he'd gotten to Jared's age, Sam's temper had been on a hair-trigger. He'd been moody and withdrawn most of the time, and he'd spent the rest of his time fighting with Dad.

--

They ended up stopping for dinner at a run down bar called B-Hive in Colby, Kansas--another smallish town without much to offer, and Dean wanted a steak and a beer. It wasn't too crowded, just a little after nine o'clock, but there were a few people already on their way to being sloshed.

"This is so cool! My parents would never let me go to a place like this." Jared was practically vibrating with excitement. "Dean, you are so cool, really. I mean it. The coolest, even."

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his head back against the booth. "Calm down, Jared. It's really not a big deal."

Jared looked at him like _Dean _was the crazy one. "Maybe not for you." He leaned forward, eyes alight. "Hey, can you teach me how to play pool?"

"Not tonight, we're kind of in a hurry. Remember?" Dean didn't snap at him, but still felt like a jerk for playing the straight guy.

Jared dimmed, sinking back into his seat immediately. "God Dean, I'm sorry. I get distracted kind of easily." He looked so freakin' upset that Dean had to reach over and squeeze his shoulder.

"It's okay, buddy. I'd love to teach you, maybe we'll get a chance in Lawrence."

Jared managed a smile and had obviously recovered by the time their waitress came over, ordering half the menu again. The woman, a young and pretty brunette, seemed to think it was a joke until Jared looked up at her, all earnest eyes and dimples. The sour look on her face melted into a smitten expression, and Dean wanted to groan; this kid was ridiculous.

She turned to take Dean's order and her eyes widened. "You two brothers or something?"

"Yeah, why?" Dean grinned, that was the easiest lie he'd ever told. He even had the family pictures to back it up.

She met his grin with a wink. "Good genes, is all. What'll you be having tonight?" And oh, how Dean wished he could stick around till she got off work.

He bit his lip. "Steak, medium well, and whatever you have on tap."

"You got it." She licked her bottom lip and Dean wanted to cry as he watched her walk back to the kitchen.

"Ahahahahaah!" Jared's belly laugh rudely brought him back from fantasyland.

"Shut up, brat."

"Oh God, Dean--your _face_!"

"Shut up." Dean stood with a scowl. "I gotta take a leak."

"Yeah, sure. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" And if Jared wasn't so cute--white teeth, blinding against tan skin, smiling eyes, and those _freaking dimples_--Dean would probably have something to say about how clever the kid thought he was.

As it was, Dean just flapped a hand at him dismissively as he headed to the back.

Jared wasn't in the booth when he returned. Dean frowned and looked around the bar, shoulders relaxing as he spotted Jared at one of the pool tables. He was holding a pool stick and talking animatedly to a middle aged guy wearing plaid and a trucker cap. As Dean watched, the guy gestured for Jared to line up a shot. Jared bent over the table and the guy plastered himself to Jared's back.

Dean cracked his knuckles as he closed in, and couldn't believe what he heard once he was close enough.

"So, is this right?" Jared asked, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was being molested.

"Hey!" Jared started at Dean's shout and his would-be assailant jumped clear. "What the fuck, man? This kid is _fifteen_." The guy's mouth worked, but Dean wasn't in the mood to hear excuses from a child molester. "You're fucking disgusting! Get out of here. _Now_."

Dean was shaking when he turned back to Jared and barked out, "You okay?"

Jared stared at him with big eyes, completely confused. "Yeah. Dean, he was just trying to teach me how to shoot pool . . ."

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "Jared." He stopped, not even sure where to begin. He didn't think he'd ever been this naive. "Just, please don't ask a strange man in a bar to teach you how to play pool, ever again. Just don't. Okay?"

He nodded, and seemed to be stuck staring at Dean. Dean took the pool stick from him and put it back on the rack. Then he gripped Jared's wrist loosely and led him back to their booth. People were staring, but Dean could give a shit what they thought.

"What's wrong, Dean? Are you mad at me?"

"Oh my god. No, I'm not mad at you!" Jared shrank back against the booth, and Dean took a deep breath. "Okay, that was really unconvincing, but it's true. I'm not mad at you, but I'd really like for you to be a little less trusting. It's important, especially when you're out on the road. There are a lot of nasty people out there, ya know?"

Jared promised, but Dean knew that was the kind of lesson you had to learn the hard way, and he kind of hoped Jared never did.

--

Jared was out, his face smashed against the passenger window, by the time Dean pulled up to Missouri Mosely's house. He verified the address again before getting out of the car as quietly as he could. Dean stepped away from the car and called his dad. It was almost 2am and he didn't want to wake someone he didn't know, especially if he had the wrong house.

"You here?" John sounded wide awake.

"I'm here."

"Great, on my way down."

Dean closed his phone and stuffed it in his back pocket. He popped the trunk, pulling out his clothes duffel and gun duffel. John came down the steps just as Dean was opening the passenger-side door. Jared spilled out, but didn't wake as Dean caught him. He stood up as John reached the car and nodded at the bags by his feet.

"Got 'em." John picked up the bags and led Dean back inside. "You can put him on the couch."

Dean got Jared settled, amazed that the kid didn't bat an eyelid. Jared scared Dean on a fundamental level; how had he managed to survive so long? He had no survival instincts whatsoever. John set the bags down and came over to look at Jared, whose face was clear in the light from the hall. "Damn, you weren't kidding."

Something in Dean's chest twisted as he watched his father run a gentle hand over Jared's cheek and into his hair. "Looks just like our Sammy..."

"Yeah," And damnit, now was not the time for crying. Dean coughed softly and shook his head. "But he's not, he's nothing like Sam, actually. Where we doing this? Kitchen?"

"Yeah, this way." John stepped away from the sleeping boy and led Dean down the hall towards the back of the house.

When they reached the kitchen John turned around, hugging Dean tightly. "Good to see you, son." Dean let his head drop to his dad's shoulder, hugging back just as hard.

"You too."

John stepped back, patting Dean briskly. "Coffee?"

"Sure, thanks." They both knew it was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

If you're still reading, yay! Please let me know what you think, thanks:)

_Title_: Red As Blood, Ch. 2  
_Rating_: R  
_Pairing:_ Dean/Jared, will become Sam/Dean/Jared  
_Disclaimer:_ This is a work of fiction

---

Dean told John about Jared's ability to teleport, and then detailed Jared's firsthand encounter with the big, bad and supernatural. John listened with a frown and shook his head when Dean finished.

"Never heard of anything like that, but Lawrence actually has a decent library. We can look into it tomorrow. Now, as for Sam, Missouri believes he took off on his own. She can't tell exactly where he is, but from what she's been able to pick up… Sam's not well, and she thinks he's running." John paused, reaching out to take Dean's wrist. "Missouri thinks that whatever killed your Mom is now going after Sam."

"Jesus." Dean didn't know what to make of that; it was so much worse than any worst-case-scenario he'd imagined. "Why would she think that? And why the hell didn't Sam come to us?"

John looked at him gravely. "Missouri came to the house not long after the fire. She said there was a . . . some sort of energy marking, nothing she'd seen before, but she's picked it up now . . . with Sam." He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Come on, Dean; you know I've never understood your brother like you do. Why do _you_ think he didn't come to us?"

Dean rubbed his brow and sighed. "He's probably trying to keep us out of it to keep us safe." Anger and worry warred with frustration, and Dean lashed out, punching the table and cracking his hand. "Damn it, Sam's such an idiot!"

"Hey, take it easy." John took both of Dean's wrists, and leveled him with a look. "That's not my property you're messing with." He nodded to the map on the table. "Let's work on that game plan, okay? Like I said, Missouri can't pinpoint him, but she's picked up a couple of things that might lead to him."

---

Dean woke to the smell of bacon and . . . pancakes, maybe? He groaned and rolled over, catching himself with a grunt when he nearly fell off the air mattress. The room was filled with light, so there was no way he was going back to sleep and sometimes Dean really hated the Sun, but at least there was real food waiting for him.

He shuffled into the kitchen in sweats and a t-shirt, scratching his stomach and yawning.

"John, your boy's got nice manners. Congratulations." The woman holding a spatula seemed a little on the testy side, glaring at John indignantly over Dean's entrance.

"Sorry." John didn't seem too sorry though. He winked at Dean and gestured to the woman. "Missouri, this is Dean. Dean, Missouri's of my oldest friends."

Dean straightened up and gave Missouri a bright smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." She narrowed her eyes with a _hmmph_, and turned back to the stove. Dean raised his eyebrows and looked to John for a clue, but John just shrugged. "Where's Jared?"

"He's taking a shower. Thankfully, I still had some of my son's old clothes, so he'll have something clean to put on." Missouri kept her back to Dean as she spoke, and made the last bit sound like an accusation.

"Oh, that's great. We didn't have a chance to stop and get him anything. Um . . . I'm going to check on him, make sure his cuts are healing okay." Dean hastily retreated and headed upstairs. He stopped in front of the bathroom door, knocking when he realized the shower wasn't running.

"Yes?" Jared sounded pretty awake--_ugh_, he was probably a morning person.

"You decent? I need to check your wounds."

"One second."

Dean leaned against the wall and talked at Jared through the door. "You sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Jared answered, pulling the door open. "How about you?" Apparently he'd just finished showering; the room was full of steam, and Jared only wore a towel around his waist.

"Not even sure I slept." Dean stepped in and motioned for Jared to turn around. He was momentarily distracted by the disparity in the width of Jared's shoulders and his narrow hips. Jared was going to be a big guy when he stopped growing and filled out. He was whipcord lean and tan all over, and too damn thin. Dean's mind wandered to Sam; had he ever looked this fragile? Dean hadn't seen him in a couple of years and he wondered if Sam had finally bulked up a bit.

"Oh man, I'm sorry. Did I snore or something?" Jared looked over his shoulder worriedly, and Dean soothed him with palm pressed to his lower back.

"No Jared, it wasn't your fault." Dean tested the skin around Jared's cuts with light fingertips. The gashes had scabbed over, and they were healing well, no sign of infection. Dean hoped they wouldn't scar, it'd be a shame for that baby-fine skin to be marred.

Dean announced his findings and stepped out to let Jared dress. He went back to the kitchen, grabbed some coffee and took a seat by his dad.

"How's the kid?" John asked, handing over the sports section.

Dean took it with a grateful expression, glad to have an excuse to avoid Missouri. "Healing well, should be good as new by the time we get him home."

Jared managed to get downstairs right when the food was ready. He was still flushed from the shower, and he looked about twelve in the slightly-too-big t-shirt and jeans Missouri had supplied. Missouri smiled and loaded up Jared's plate first, patting him on the cheek and calling him sweetie. Dean tried to share a pained look with John, but he was giving Jared the same doting smile. This was really getting out of hand.

"Ms. Missouri, Dean says you're a psychic. Is that true?" Jared put a hand over his mouth, like that made it okay to speak with a mouthful of eggs.

"Baby, finish chewing before you speak." She didn't actually seemed bothered though. "Yes, it's true. I can pick up a few things here and there, but I can't read minds or anything fun like that." She winked at Jared playfully and he smiled, still covering his mouth. "How about you? I've heard you have a gift, too."

Jared obediently finished chewing before he answered. "I guess so. I can't just make it happen yet, though. I've only done it a few times, when I panicked."

Dean frowned. "Obviously you panicked when you were attacked by that invisible . . . _whatever_, but what else could've upset you that much?"

Jared's gaze dropped to his plate and he stabbed at his eggs, a blush rising in his cheeks. "Um, I used to have these nightmares. I'd get so worked up, not knowing it was a dream, and I'd just . . . I'd wake up somewhere else. One time it was my friend Rob's house, and the other time I woke up in the park."

Missouri made a thoughtful noise and reached over to push Jared's bangs back. "I'd like to hear more about these nightmares, but it can wait until after breakfast."

They finished eating and Dean was assigned dish-washing duty. Jared wanted to help, but Missouri wouldn't allow it, informing them that it was time for her to have a little heart-to-heart with Jared. John squeezed Dean's shoulder and followed Missouri and Jared into the living room.

---

Dean finished the dishes and headed after the others. When he reached the doorway to the living room though, he stopped short. Jared was sitting on the couch and Missouri was sitting in a chair she'd pulled up in front of him. She had Jared's hands and was leaning in, speaking in low, soothing tones, and Jared was crying.

Dean walked over to John, hissing, "What the hell is this?"

"Calm down, Missouri's just hypnotized him. She's trying to find out more about his nightmares." John motioned for Dean to sit, but Dean just frowned and moved closer to Jared.

"He can't hurt you, baby." Missouri's eyes flicked to Dean in warning, _stay back_. "Jared, does he have a name?"

"No, no, n--I don't know!" Jared whimpered pitifully, rocking and crying, and drawing Dean like a magnet. Dean ignored Missouri, sitting next to Jared and pulling him close.

"Shhh, it's okay. Dean's here now, we're with you, Jared. You don't need to be scared." Her eyes softened as Jared tucked his snotty face into Dean's neck, and Dean's heart did a weird little jump. His grip on Jared tightened involuntarily. "What does this yellow-eyed man want from you?"

"I don't know. He just says I'm like _him_, like the other boy he wants. Says I'm close enough . . . " Jared trailed off with a shuddering sigh.

"Jared, what do you say to that? What do you say to him?"

"I say _no--_I don't want anything to do with him! Stop it, stop it!" Jared was losing it, and Dean glared at Missouri.

"That's enough, isn't it?" He demanded.

"Yes, it's enough for now." She leaned in to speak into Jared's ear. After a moment Jared tensed in Dean's hold and then turned and wrapped Dean in his lanky arms, burrowing in with a heavy sigh.

Dean rocked him, stroking his hair and muttering soothing nonsense. He looked over and found John watching with a stricken expression. Dean understood, and reluctantly pushed Jared back. He held that achingly familiar face, thumbing Jared's tears away, and tried to smile.

"You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, I . . . I don't even know what happened. I just had the most horrible feeling. Oh God, did I do that to your shirt?" The poor guy looked mortified as he gestured to the soaked neckline of Dean's t-shirt.

"Don't worry about it, I think I'll recover." Dean smiled and Jared quirked his lips in return, no dimples though.

"John, I'm going to need your help with something outside." Missouri spoke from the doorway, and Dean knew they were going to talk about whatever was going on with Jared. Dean wanted to be part of that conversation, but he wasn't about to leave Jared; he was too shaken up. "You boys can watch television."

"Thank you." Jared scooted forward to pick up the remote and Dean let himself sink back into the couch.

There were a box of tissues on the coffee table and Jared helped himself, blowing his nose obnoxiously. Dean laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

He'd give the grown-ups a few minutes to talk, but then he was going after them--they needed to get moving. Jared sat back, settling close to Dean and Dean fought off a stupid grin. He remembered this; being needed. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until he'd had Jared clinging to him.

Jared turned the TV on, but Dean noticed that he was just staring down at his hands. Dean brushed a hand over the back of his neck and left it there. At the touch, Jared's eyes darted over to him.

"What's up, Jared?"

Jared dropped his head and Dean moved his hand up into Jared's fine, short hair, kneading away the tension. Jared sighed again, closing his eyes and smiling a little. "Thanks Dean, I'm just stuck with that feeling. Must be whatever Ms. Missouri pulled up, feels like . . . the way I used to feel when I had those nightmares. It's stupid, I'll be fine in a little while. Don't worry about it."

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but John interrupted. "Dean, we need to talk to you. Sorry Jared, but it's about Sam."

Dean let Jared go and followed John out, throwing a _be right back_ over his shoulder.

Missouri was waiting on the porch, and she scowled at Dean as soon as she saw him. "Dean, don't coddle that boy! We were doing fine before you came in."

"Jared was crying, I don't think that's 'fine'. Anyway, he's had a rough couple of days, maybe he needs to be coddled." Dean made a face as he spoke; he didn't think he'd ever used that word before . . . _coddled_--it was unnatural.

She huffed, but let it drop. "Well, you're not going to like this, but it looks like the same thing that's come after your family is after Jared. That same darkness has touched Jared, and I think his rejection must have made it pretty angry. That's why it's trying to kill him now."

---

They headed out that afternoon; John took his truck while Dean and Jared followed in the Impala. Missouri said she'd gotten a few impressions when she focused on Sam's location, and it seemed he was in the southwest, maybe Arizona or New Mexico.

They'd had to fill up before they headed out and Jared took the opportunity to stock up on candy. John had looked on disbelievingly as Jared put a pile of sweets in front of the cashier, and scowled when Dean actually bought them for him.

"Dean, you planning on giving Jared back to his parents without teeth?"

"Dad, it's the only thing that keeps him quiet for more than five seconds." Dean had only wished he was joking.

They'd been on the road for half an hour when the candy failed to be enough to keep Jared entertained. Dean watched in dread as Jared's delicate, long-fingered hand reached for his radio dial. After he'd turned down Dean's favorite tape, Jared curled his lanky frame towards Dean and Dean began a mental countdown,_ three . . . two . . . _

"What's Sam like?" Jared blurted, working enthusiastically on his latest Now and Later. Resigned to his fate, Dean found himself grinning. Jared had become really interested in Sam since they'd gotten around to showing him pictures.

"He's a total nerd, bad sense of humor, and even worse taste in music."

Jared snorted. "Right, I'll make sure to let him know you said that. Anyway, I'm a nerd too, so I'd probably like him."

"Wait, I thought you said you were on the basketball team?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"So you can't be a nerd." Dean needed things to be a certain way, and didn't appreciate Jared messing with his absolutes.

"Dean, I'm on the debate team and I'm in drama." Jared seemed to be enjoying this way too much, waiting for Dean's reaction with a smile perched at the corner of his mouth.

Dean felt his face contort in horror. "You're in _drama_?"

"Yep. And debate and the basketball team. Are you going to be okay with that?"

"Oh god, maybe you are a Sam clone. Sammy was in drama in high school, too. You people scare me." Dean was only half-joking.

"Really?" Jared leaned over, suddenly breathless in excitement. "What plays did he do? We just did _Guys and Dolls_--" and that was pretty much where Dean tuned him out.

---

Things got a little more interesting as they were heading into Texas, a little north of the border on 54. It was around dusk and Dean's mind was still on Sam. Jared was quiet, looking out the side window and gnawing on a Snickers bar. Suddenly the car in front of John's truck slammed on its brakes, causing Dean and John to follow suit.

Jared yelped and Dean cursed, turning the wheel hard as he could to avoid slamming into John's truck. He fishtailed and side-swiped the truck, but amazingly enough neither vehicle flipped. They came to a halt not too far off the road.

"What the hell was that?" Jared gasped, clinging to the dashboard for dear life.

Dean blinked at him a couple of times, trying to rein in his own panic. "I have no idea." He noticed a dark smudge next to Jared's mouth and darted forward to grip his face. Dean brushed the spot lightly and frowned when it came off completely. He sniffed his hand and laughed shortly. "You _would_ bleed chocolate."

Jared wasn't laughing though, his mouth drawn tight as he raised a shaky hand to Dean's temple. "That has to hurt." His hand came away coated in blood and Dean turned to the rear view mirror. He had a shallow gash at his hairline.

"Nah, it's not bad." He got out of the car and saw that John was already checking on the driver of the red Prius that had caused the near pile-up.

Dean was a few feet away when the door of the Prius flew open, knocking John to the ground.

"Hey!" Dean pulled his gun faster than thought, ducking behind the rear of the car.

A young man with eyes as black as pitch stepped out, he was also armed and his gun was trained on John. "Dean, put down your gun."

How the hell did this guy know his name? "Fuck," he muttered, glancing back at the Impala. Thankfully Jared was no where to be seen. "Dad? You all right?"

"Dean, it's a demon. Do what it says." Great, Dean could work with that. He kept a vial of holy water and a rosary in his jacket. He heaved a theatrical sigh and slowly stood, tossing the gun in front of the demon.

It smiled at him brightly. "Now we just need the third member of your party to join us." It raised its voice. "You! Get out of the car."

When there was no movement from the car, the demon shrugged, turned and shot John in the leg. He shrieked and Dean lunged forward, but the damn thing was fast. It brought the butt of its gun down on Dean's already-wounded temple and he hit the ground, hard.

It shook its head as John moaned and gripped at his lower leg. It turned back to the Impala. "I said, get out of the car!"

After a couple of seconds, the passenger door opened and Jared stepped out on shaky legs, walking forward with his hands raised. The demon made a surprised noise. "Oh, this is my lucky night." It gestured Jared closer and leaned in to pet him, stroking his hair and face. "You've been a very bad boy, Jared, and someone wants to make sure you're sorry."

"Get off me!" Jared pulled his head back, but it gripped his shoulders and pulled him tighter.

"Don't touch him, you fucker!" Dean struggled to stand and Jared broke away from the thing, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist to pull him up. Dean had to shake off the dizziness, had to get that freakin' vial. He let Jared take most of his weight as he spoke. "What do you want with us, anyway?"

"You two," it gestured at Dean and his dad, "are just in the way, so I have to get rid of you. Jared, on the other hand, we're not done with him." It smiled at Jared. "You'll be coming with me. I think we're going to take another crack at persuading you to see our side of things."

"Bullshit." Dean flung the holy water in its face and pushed the rosary against its chest as it screamed. "Jared! Get my dad into the car, go!"

Dean retrieved his gun and shot the writhing creature a few times as Jared got John into the backseat of the Impala. The thing finally stopped moving, and Dean grabbed a couple things out of his dad's truck before cutting the brakes on both vehicles. He rushed back to the Impala and hit the road. They weren't stopping until they were out of gas.

---

Shortly after they'd left the accident scene, Dean called Bobby and told him what happened. Bobby knew someone who'd be able to pick up John's truck and hold it until they could get back for it. John was able to direct Jared's attempt to patch up his leg, and by the time they pulled into a Motel 6 in Albuquerque, Dean was feeling a little better about their situation.

Jared helped him get John into the room and settled onto one of the beds. In fact, Jared did everything Dean asked, without hesitation--it was a little disconcerting. Dean glanced over at Jared as he worked on his dad's leg. John was out because Dean had given him a healthy dose of Vicodin, but Jared . . . Jared was perched on the opposite bed, strung as tight as a wire, not twitching and not saying a word.

"Jared, how you doing?" Dean bit his lip as he returned his focus to John's wound, the bullet was lodged next to the bone, but had missed anything vital. Thankfully, Dean was good at multi-tasking. "Jared? You there?"

"Oh, um. Yeah."

"You all right?" Dean closed the forceps carefully, got a solid hold and slowly pulled the bullet out.

"Yeah." Jared's voice was tight with emotion, and Dean wondered if they had something in the bag they could give him. He'd probably be okay after he slept.

"Why don't you go ahead and shower?" He saw Jared nod out of the corner of his eye, and felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders when the bathroom door shut. Dean just didn't know how to handle Jared, and the demon's words kept running through his head. _They_ weren't through with the kid? What all had _they_ done to him up till now? Was there more that Jared hadn't told him?

He finished cleaning up John's leg and wiped him down with a washcloth before tucking him in. Jared came out a few minutes later in a t-shirt and boxers. He didn't say anything to Dean, just climbed under the covers with his back to the lamp.

"Jared, you mind if I take the comforter for the floor?"

"What?" He rolled over and looked at Dean, brow furrowed.

"Just so I have more cushion."

"Oh. I thought . . . yeah, sure." He seemed upset about it though, weird kid.

"Thanks." He made his bed on the floor between the two actual beds and then headed for the shower. Jared had turned the light off by the time Dean was through in the bathroom. Dean got settled in the dark, and didn't realize how banged up he was until he was stretched out on the floor. His body _hurt_.

In spite of the pain, he'd almost drifted off when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. "Dean." Jared whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Can you just--can you sleep up here? Please?" The kid sounded about ten, all shaky and scared.

Dean got up with a heavy sigh, bones creaking. "Sure, the floor wasn't doing my body any favors anyway." He settled next to Jared and wasn't too surprised to find himself wrapped in lanky boy limbs, almost immediately. He returned the embrace, feeling fine tremors racking Jared's lean frame. "Hey buddy, what's wrong?"

Jared just shook his head, pushing his face into Dean's shoulder. Dean ran one hand up into Jared's still damp hair, and stroked his back with the other, trying to stem the shaking. Jared shifted and hitched his leg over Dean's hips, plastering himself to Dean completely. Dean tensed, he didn't want to upset Jared by pushing him back, but Dean was pretty sure the pressure against his hip was Jared's cock.

Jared made a little noise and suddenly his mouth was touching Dean's neck, and Dean understood what was happening. "Jared, you can't--"

"Please, Dean." He spoke against the sensitive skin at the base of Dean's throat, and the brush of warm breath was followed by the tip of Jared's tongue. Dean shivered and moved his grip to Jared's arms. He firmly set Jared back on his side of the bed, holding him there when Jared strained to follow him.

"I know you're scared. I know what you think you need, but I can't . . . I can't help you with that. I'm sorry." Dean touched Jared's cheek lightly as he spoke and Jared turned into the touch with a broken noise, and Dean's stomach dipped. "Baby, no. You're too young."

Jared pulled Dean's head down and spoke into his ear, heated and desperate. "Dean, please. I'm not asking you to . . . to fuck me, I just need--will you just touch me, please?"

Dean bit his lip and pressed his forehead to Jared's. "I can hold you, but that's it--"

Jared's mouth was pressed to his before Dean finished that thought, licking and biting. Dean's eyes clenched tightly as he fought to remain impassive, let the kid wear himself out, but Jared's mouth was so sweet, so hot. Jared wrapped his leg around Dean again and pulled him into the cradle of his bony hips, rocking into Dean sharply with a soft groan.

"Dean please, please. Just touch me, I'll never ask again and we'll forget about it. Please--" Jared's need was more than Dean could resist, and he wrapped his arms around Jared with a sigh, letting Jared have his mouth.

Dean rolled them and pushed Jared back into the pillows, slowing the kiss and slipping his hand into Jared's boxers. He swallowed Jared's cry and jerked him off as quickly as he could. Jared bucked into Dean's touch and gasped into his mouth, and Dean felt the rush like an electric shock. Jared's hips stuttered and he soaked Dean's hand in release.

"Dean," Jared was breathless and his body utterly relaxed, finally. He nuzzled Dean's neck and sounded drunk as he thanked Dean. "You're so--you're amazing, Dean. I don't want to go home, I don't want to leave you. I never want to go." His voice trailed off into sleep and Dean was able to disentangle himself and make a run to the bathroom.

He shut the door quietly and faced the mirror dumbly, the horror of what he'd done sinking in; Dean Winchester, pedophile. Dean sank to the floor and wondered how he could possibly face his dad or Jared in the morning. If he survived that, what would happen when he saw _Sam_ again?


	3. Chapter 3

If you're still reading, yay! Please let me know what you think, thanks:)

_Title_: Red As Blood, Ch. 3  
_Rating_: R  
_Pairing:_ Dean/Jared, will become Sam/Dean/Jared_  
Notes and Warnings:_ AU from the pilot and under-age friskiness, as Jared (a _fictional _character) is fifteen in the beginning of the story.  
_Disclaimer:_ This is a work of fiction

**I'm sorry, but I will not continue to update stories on this site. If you'd like a link to my writing journal, please send me a message. Thanks.**

---

The hard floor digging into his tailbone eventually forced Dean to get up, to pull out of his little freak out session. He looked back into the mirror once he was on his feet and shook his head; he looked like shit. The white bandage on his temple brought out the sickly hue in his face rather nicely. Dean leaned over the sink and splashed some icy tap water onto his face and neck, smacking himself a couple of times. 

"Snap out of it, man, you are not a pedophile. I don't know what the fuck just happened, but it's not gonna happen again. Dad's not gonna know about it, and Sammy sure as hell isn't gonna know about it. Shake it off." Dean's whispered pep talk settled his gut and he heaved a sigh, wiping his face and steeling himself to open the bathroom door.

He crept into the room on his toes, and found John and Jared still completely out of it. Dean carefully took the comforters from both beds and re-built his nest on the floor. Dean grimaced and adjusted his pillow, ignoring the way the floor dug into his hip as he took a deep breath and forced his mind to that blank, quiet place, and was asleep within minutes.

---

Something woke Dean just a little after dawn, if the light in the room could be trusted. He moved slowly, fighting nausea as he propped himself up on his elbows. Seemed he'd been woken by John's grunts as Jared helped him into the bathroom. Dean sat up further and clutched his aching head, that crack on his skull may have been worse than he'd thought.

He watched with a knot in his gut as Jared got John situated and returned to the main room, closing the bathroom door quietly.

"S'okay, I'm up. No need for stealth." Dean finally spoke, startling a jump out of Jared.

He made a strangled noise and then rushed to sit next to Dean.

"Dean, oh God. I'm so sorry." Jared whispered frantically, and his devastated little face broke Dean's heart. "I can't believe I did that--I can't believe I made _you_ do that! I don't know what was wrong with me, but please--I promise, I'll never . . . " He struggled for the word, but Dean just wanted him to stop, "_accost_ you like that again!"

Dean opened his mouth to respond, to apologize for his part, but John chose that moment to come back into the room. Instead, Dean just patted Jared on the cheek and said, "I know, okay? I know. It's all right."

John watched them with a frown, but smoothed out his expression when Jared got up to help him back to the bed. Jared carefully propped John's leg up and offered to go pick up some breakfast. Dean gave him a twenty and sent him downstairs. He didn't like the idea of letting the kid go by himself, but--despite his injuries--Jared was in the best shape to be seen in public.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean was digging around in his bag for Tylenol, but paused to turn and raise a brow at John.

"What was that about?" John gestured to the floor where Dean and Jared had been talking.

Dean shrugged, keeping the panic coiled tightly in his gut. "Nothing, really. Jared just likes blames himself for everything, kid's got a martyr complex the size of Texas. I was trying to talk him down."

"Hmph." John didn't sound particularly convinced, but Dean wasn't going to elaborate. "Talked to Missouri this morning, she's picked up something solid, got us a hotel name; Sedona Real Inn."

"Sam's in Sedona? Shit, that's like five or six hours away! We could be there by lunch." Dean bounced on his heels and immediately regretted it, pain stabbing through his head. He fished out his pain killers and popped four Tylenol.

"Yeah, we could." John quirked a smile at Dean's antics and Dean could tell that he was as excited as Dean, just not stupid enough to bounce around and jar his leg. Dean shook his head at the image of his dad _bouncing_ for any reason. He offered John the Tylenol, but John shook his head. "Already had my fix, thanks." John paused, adjusting his pillows and switching gears. "Jared needs to call his parents again."

"I know." Dean sat down next to John, rubbing the back of his neck. "What exactly do make of our Sammy clone?"

"I don't have to tell you how freaky this whole thing is." John smiled down at his hands and fiddled with his ring. "It's a little scary for someone who looks just like Sam to be that, I don't know . . . _bubbly_."

"But do you think . . . why do you think the same thing that's after Sam is after Jared? What's tying them together, besides physical appearance?"

John shook his head wearily, swiping a hand over his face. "I have no idea, but I'm thinking Sam knows a hell of a lot more about this than we do. I hope he does, anyway."

Jared banged back into the room with a newspaper, a handful of drinks, and a bag of mystery treats. Dean waved a hand at him. "Back, put that stuff in the car."

Jared made a face and sighed, but turned around to head to the car. Dean gathered up the few things they'd unpacked and handed the bags to Jared on his return trip.

"Dad, you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." John got a good grip on Dean's shoulders and grunted as Dean got him vertical. Dean maneuvered him out to the car as quickly and carefully as he could, with Jared flitting around anxiously.

"I've got him, Jared. Just take a seat, okay buddy?"

"Oh yeah, sorry Dean." He said, immediately tucking himself into the passenger seat. Dean rolled his eyes at Jared's skittishness, but let it go.

He moved into the driver's seat and tossed Jared his cell. "Time to check in again."

Jared took the phone wordlessly and turned away to make the call. "Hey Mom. Yeah, I'm fine, I promise. No, I can't say . . . No, I'm sorry Mom. I have to go, but I'll check back again in a couple of days." Dean could hear Jared's mom, could hear that Jared was talking over her, not listening to her pleas. "I love you." Jared finished the call shakily, and Dean was soothing the tense shoulders before he knew it. Jared melted into his touch just as Dean pulled his hand back in horror.

Jared gaped at him for a moment and Dean wanted to apologize, but he couldn't. He felt John's eyes burning a hole in the back of his neck. Damn, they were in trouble. Dean coughed and looked away. "So, what did she say?"

"She just wants me to come home. She's scared, and I think she's about to call the police." Jared gnawed on his bottom lip and twisted his hands in his lap, and Dean stamped down the urge to comfort him with touch.

"Yeah, she probably is. You're just way too young to be roadtrippin'." Dean sighed, just another thing for them to watch out for; cops.

"Missouri thinks you need to work on that whole teleportation thing, Jared. She's pretty sure you'd be able to use it at will, if you practice." John changed the subject and Dean relaxed back into his seat as Jared brightened, jumping at the chance to discuss theories about his power.

If Dean could manage to keep his hands to himself, he was pretty sure they'd all be fine.

---

They found the Sedona Real Inn easily enough, just off highway 89, past the main part of town, and got a room for themselves. Dean wasn't sure what name Sam would be using if he was trying to hide from his family. He got John and Jared into the room, and then hung out in the car to watch for Sam.

Six hours later, Dean was starting to revisit that plan. He was hot and miserable, and seriously considering getting ac for the car. Jared had made a few trips to keep Dean fed and watered, but he desperately needed a shower. He finally gave up, for the moment, heading back to the room but stopping abruptly when he heard a cry from the room with the vending machines.

"--ly shit!" Dean recognized the voice instantly.

He ducked his head into the doorway and just stared. Sam had Jared pinned to the wall with a knife at his throat. It took a second for the shock to wear off, a second before Dean darted forward to grab Sam's arm.

"Jesus, Sam! Back off!"

"Dean?" Sam gaped at him, but didn't let Jared go. The poor kid looked like he was about to piss himself, and Dean didn't blame him, Sam was _huge_.

"Yeah, it's me. Now drop the kid." Dean wedged himself between them and used a dirty grip to get Sam to release the knife.

"Dammit, Dean!" Sam swore as he backed up, dropping Jared and the knife. "That thing is dangerous!"

Dean glared at Sam and checked Jared over, making sure Sam hadn't actually cut him. Jared was unharmed but shaking like a leaf, so Dean kept an arm around him as he turned back to Sam. Sam looked like he wanted to tear Dean away from Jared.

"This _thing_ is not dangerous, Sam! This is Jared, and he's just a high school kid from San Antonio. And okay, he's not exactly normal, but no way is he dangerous." Dean stopped as Sam's appearance finally registered; he was thin and pale and looked like he hadn't bathed in a while. "Sam, you look like hell."

Sam had been working up to a serious rant, judging by the tension in his jaw, but at Dean's last sentence Sam's mouth just worked wordlessly and he kind of broke, sagging against the wall and laughing hysterically.

Dean set Jared aside and moved over to Sam, slapping him sharply and then pulling him in to a hug. Sam stopped laughing and dropped his head to Dean's shoulder, hugging him tightly.

When Sam stepped back, he kept a fierce grip on Dean's shoulders. "Dean, what are you doing here? Jesus, do you have any idea what's going on? What he," a gesture towards Jared, "is?"

"No, actually, I don't have a fucking clue. You wanna fill us in?"

Sam opened his mouth, but Dean shook his head. "Not here, back in the room. Need to let Dad know we've found you."

Sam's brows shot up. "Dad's here?"

"Yeah, c'mon. Jared, you okay?"

Jared nodded wordlessly from his spot against the wall, watching them with big, terrified eyes. "C'mon, man. Sam's just a little stressed, he's not going to try to hurt you again, right Sam?"

Sam just frowned at Dean, making Dean want to smack him again. "Go on ahead, Jared, we'll catch up." Once Jared was out of sight, Dean grabbed Sam's shirt and shook him. "Sam, what the fuck? I've been traveling with Jared for a while now, and he's like . . . my second little brother, or something. Point is; he's a good kid, okay?"

"Dean, he's not . . . I'm not even sure he's human." Sam was worried, afraid even, and Dean couldn't blow that off, but c'mon--

"Dude, I _know_ he's human." Dean stopped, realizing he didn't know any other humans who could teleport. "Okay, I'm _pretty sure_ Jared's human, but even if he's not, I definitely know he's harmless. The thing is . . ." Dean felt himself blushing, but he needed Sam to understand. "He's really _sweet_."

Sam just stared at him, clearly unable to believe what he was hearing. "Sweet."

"Sweet." Dean confirmed. "Like, puppies and babies and stuff. It's kind of disturbing, but it's not . . . _dangerous_. I'd bet my life on it, Jared's harmless."

Sam's mouth tightened and his brow furrowed, and Dean was so happy that it was _Sam_ here with him, making that constipated face, that he almost didn't care if Sam believed him. "Well, we'll see what you say when I fill you in."

---

"I started having these dreams . . . well, I _thought_ they were dreams, until Jess died." Sam's voice was broken, desolate, and it tore at Dean's heart, hearing Sam sound like that. Sam sat on the bed across from John, and Jared sat in the corner armchair, while Dean stood in between the two.

"Son, I'm sorry about Jessica, but I don't see how--" John was cut off as Sam tensed and made a violent gesture.

"Jess died _exactly _the way I dreamed; pinned to the ceiling with her stomach slashed open. What are the odds that I would dream that weeks before it actually happened?" Sam shook as he spoke and Dean moved closer, dropping to sit beside Sam, offering his presence.

"Why didn't you call us? Why the hell did you take off like that?" Dean didn't bother trying to hide how much Sam's disappearing act had upset him.

"Jesus Christ, Sam." John spoke up before Sam could respond and Dean's eyes shot to his father, who was staring at Sam in horror. "That's exactly how your mother died."

Dean felt bile rising in the back of his throat, but forced it back. "Missouri, Dad's friend, said that the same thing that killed Mom was after you."

Sam's mouth twisted and he shook his head. "That's not all. Dean, I've seen it happen to you, too. That's why we have to get rid of him." The last was said with a nasty glare thrown in Jared's direction.

"What the hell? I'm not following." Dean was seriously beginning to worry if Sam had flat-out cracked under all the pressure.

"My dreams, I've seen -- he's on the bed and you're pinned to the ceiling above him, with your gut slashed open." Sam shook his head, like he was trying to get rid of the image. Dean's stomach clenched at Sam's words, what if Sam had seen something else? "I thought it was me in the visions--like I was seeing a younger me, at first. That's why I took off, I thought you'd be safe if you weren't around me. But dammit Dean, you're not safe as long as he's around!" Sam was gripping Dean's shoulders hard, like he was trying to will Dean into obeying. "Get rid of him, please."

"Now, hold on there, Sam." John spoke up, the edge of command in his voice. "Jess died above you, but you didn't kill her. Why are you blaming Jared for what you've seen about Dean? If you _have_ started having . . . premonitions, then we'll have to do everything we can to make sure that doesn't happen to Dean, but I don't see how getting rid of Jared would help. If that thing's coming after Dean, it could easily be you or I who end up watching it happen."

Sam's jaw was twitching and Dean knew he wasn't gonna listen to a word John said. "We're not getting rid of Jared, so just get that out of your head, okay? Jared's a victim here, too. He's got some yellow-eyed dude harassing him in his dreams, an invisible . . . God knows _what_ after him when he's awake, and we met a demon on the way here who was awfully happy to see him, so--give the kid a break, would ya?"

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

"What, Sam? Seriously, you've got to have a better reas--" Dean shut up as the shadow on the opposite wall suddenly stretched, shooting up to the ceiling, and before Dean could blink he'd been thrown across the room.

"Dean!" Jared's scream got him to open his eyes, and Dean saw that Sam and John had also ended up in a heap on the floor. Jared was behind Dean, trying to pull him up, arms looped across Dean's chest. "This is what got me last time!"

Dean was almost on his feet when it struck again, tearing a gash up his left side, forcing him back down. It hit him once more, across the face, and Jared's shriek was the last thing he heard.

---

"Ow," Dean hissed as pain shot through his body thanks to whoever was shaking his shoulder, but the shaking didn't stop. "Damnit!" He opened his eyes, ready to tear his assailant a new one, but as soon as he saw Jared everything rushed back and Dean sat up with a gasp. Jared's face was pale and tear-streaked, not exactly a good sign. Dean put one hand on Jared's cheek and quickly surveyed their surroundings--looked to be a boy's bedroom. "Where the hell are we? Where's Sam? My dad?"

As Dean spoke his face throbbed and he gingerly tested his right cheek, unsurprised to find a bandage, and a matching one wrapped tightly along his side. He barreled on before Jared responded to his first round of questions. "How long have we been here? Why didn't you wake me sooner?"

"Dean, they're okay! Sam called your cell and I was able to let him know you're okay, too. We're in my room, in San Antonio. We've been here for a few hours, and I tried to wake you sooner, but you wouldn't wake up. Sam thinks you probably have a concussion, and there's a egg-sized knot on the back of your head, so he's probably right. I wasn't even sure I could teleport other people, thank God I didn't lose you in space or something . . . " Jared still seemed to be suffering from the adrenaline rush of the attack and escape, speaking at about ninety miles an hour, and shaking.

Dean brought his other hand up and hushed Jared, stroking at the tear streaks with his thumbs. "Why were you crying? Did those things hit you?"

Jared shivered under his touch, closed his eyes and shook his head. "I just . . . you wouldn't wake up."

Dean sighed and slipped one hand around to the back of Jared's neck, kneading at the tension there. He knew he shouldn't touch Jared like this, but he couldn't make himself stop. Jared opened his eyes and the way he looked at Dean -- how could this kid he'd only known for a few days feel so much for _Dean_?

Dean shook his head, it was hero worship or puppy love, some silly teenage crush thing. He dropped his hands and scooted back abruptly, forcibly ignoring the flash of pain in Jared's eyes, as another thought occurred to him. "We're in your house? Where are your parents?"

"They're asleep, thankfully." His lip quirked in a sad half-smile. "Otherwise, you'd probably already be in jail."

It was almost four in the morning, people would be stirring soon. Dean was tempted to make Jared stay, but he couldn't, not with that thing chasing him. "We gotta get out of here."

Jared looked around his room, sighing sadly. "Yeah, I know. Least this time I can grab some of my clothes. Your shirt is ruined, but I think you can wear my t-shirts." He stood and went to his dresser, throwing some clothes into a Nike duffel bag. He tossed one to Dean, a plain black tee with a the words Resurrect Now on a red rectangle in the center of the chest. Dean realized he probably didn't get the reference, but found it amusing nonetheless.

They walked a couple of streets over, Dean reluctantly leaning on Jared the entire way, before Dean decided on a car to hotwire. He went with a Crown Victoria, didn't get more incognito than that. He managed to get the right wires together to start the car, but there was no way he could drive--judging by his swimming eyesight, Dean definitely had a concussion.

Driving was a good distraction for Jared, too, and as soon as they were on the road Dean called Sam back.

"Dean?" Sam's voice reached that part of Dean that hadn't quite dared to believe he was okay, and Dean slumped back into the seat with a dopey smile on his face.

"Yeah."

"Thank God," Sam was obviously as happy to hear Dean's voice. "So Jared can teleport, huh? Wow. I feel kind of gypped in the special powers department."

"Heh. Do you still think he's the Anti-Christ?" Dean squeezed Jared's shoulder as he spoke, reassuring without words that Dean had never doubted him.

Sam's silence surprised Dean and he felt a flare of anger at Sam's continued stubbornness. "I don't think he's the Anti-Christ, I just . . . I think he's bad for you. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you more than that over the phone."

Dean froze, suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on Jared's shoulder, as his gut screamed, _He fucking knows!_ Sam's dreams had shown him more that just Dean's death. Sam had seen other things, other things that Dean had done with Jared. . .


	4. Chapter 4

_Title_: Red As Blood, Ch. 4  
_Rating_: R  
_Pairing:_ Dean/Jared, will become Sam/Dean/Jared_  
Notes and Warnings:_ AU from the pilot and under-age friskiness, as Jared (a _fictional _character) is fifteen in the beginning of the story.  
_Disclaimer:_ This is a work of fiction

**I'm sorry, but I will not continue to update stories on this site. If you'd like a link to my writing journal, please send me a message. Thanks.**

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Dean blinked when Sam spoke again, changing the subject to let Dean know that even John had no idea what had attacked them, hadn't heard of or seen anything like it.

"Yeah, that was some freaky shit." Dean offered weakly, still working past the horrific thought that Sam knew Dean had jerked off the teenage version of his little brother. "Uh, listen, I'm pretty tired. I'll give you a call later, okay?"

"Dean, maybe you should go to an ER. I tried to give Jared some pointers on patching you up, but he doesn't really know anything about this stuff. You probably need to see a doctor."

"We'll see. I'll just . . . I'll talk to you later." He snapped the phone shut and sagged against the door. "Jared, let me know when you see a hotel. We'll drive past it, dump the car, and walk back to get a room."

"All right," Jared answered softly, and Dean knew he was upset by Dean's sudden mood change, but Dean wouldn't crack this time; he wasn't going to look at the kid, and he certainly wasn't going to reach over and --

Jared reached over and lightly touched Dean's temple, and Dean sighed, leaning into the touch, wondering if he should just accept his fate. "What's wrong? You must be in a lot of pain. Man, I'm sorry, I should've given you something before we left the house. I don't have anything strong, but I grabbed a bottle of Aleve."

"Hey, it's okay, I'm fine. Well, maybe not fine, but I'll be good until we get to a hotel. Mostly, I'd just really like a shower -- ugh."

Jared smiled weakly, and Dean's eyes were caught. Jared had moved his hand back to the wheel and was driving in the perfect Driver's Ed stance of ten and two. It turned out that Jared's own clothes fit him even worse than the borrowed ones had; his thin frame drowning in an oversized t-shirt and ridiculously baggy jeans. The loose collar of the t-shirt made Jared's neck look vulnerable, delicate even, accentuated further by his short hair. His bangs, which were angled longer in the front, hid his eyes, but left his jaw and mouth visible. Jared's bruises had faded to a light green, barely visible, but he had a fresh split lip, and Dean frowned.

"Your lip, did I do that?"

Jared's tongue darted out, pink and distracting, testing the cut. "Um, maybe?" He looked over at Dean like he was worried about upsetting him.

"Ouch, sorry about that." Dean felt bad about even accidentally hurting Jared, but had to fight an exasperated smile at Jared's habit of putting other people first. He probably woudn't have let Dean know he'd been the one to cut Jared's lip, if Dean hadn't asked him point blank.

"It's fine, just stings a bit. All right, how does a Comfort Inn sound to you?" Jared pointed out the familiar sign on the opposite side of the road.

"Sounds perfect."

---

Jared insisted on dropping Dean near the hotel and dumping the car by himself. Dean waited on a bus bench, gnawing his thumbnail near bloody, panic rising with every minute Jared was gone. Thankfully, it only took Jared about twenty minutes to get back to Dean, so he had at least a stump of his thumbnail left.

Dean knew the clerk would be suspicious with a couple of battered guys checking in at five in the morning, but they didn't have a choice in the matter. Dean had his wallet and a couple of fake cards on him, so at least they had that going for them. He told Jared to work the sweet and innocent angle, while Dean went for slightly-rougher-for-the-wear but charming.

Turned out they needn't have worried, since the night shift clerk barely took his eyes off his magazine when he checked them in. Dean had to take a moment the be thankful for lazy-ass service people.

They settled and Dean wanted nothing more than to pass out, but he couldn't stand smelling as foul as he did for one more second. Jared frowned worriedly at Dean's intent to shower, but didn't really try to stop him. Dean knew he'd have to make it quick though, if he didn't want Jared hurting himself by trying to break down the door.

Dean stripped and carefully removed his bandages, and damn, that shadow thing really had done a number on him, cutting him from hip to shoulder. Fortunately, the cuts weren't too deep, a lot like the ones Jared had received in his encounter with the thing. The water stung a bit, but it was worth it to finally feel clean.

He stepped out, wobbling only a little, wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door to let out the steam. He wasn't exactly surprised when Jared fell into the room, along with the cool air. Jared stumbled and blushed, straightening against the sink.

"Sorry, I was -- just in case you, you know," Jared sputtered, gesturing helplessly and ridiculously adorable in his gangly, sweet way.Dean laughed and patted him on the cheek. "Relax, dude, I know. Since you're here, I'll probably need some help wrapping my side."

"Oh, yeah." Jared hurried back to the main room, pulling a package of fresh gauze and tape from his bag. "Glad Mom stocked this stuff." He handed Dean four Aleve, which Dean gladly took.

"Thanks." Dean leaned into the sink while Jared crossed to his side. He watched Jared work, gently applying antibiotic ointment to the wounds before carefully covering them. Dean's attention wandered from Jared's hands, slender but strong and so damn big for his age, to Jared's increasingly flushed face. Dean -- in spite of everything, in spite of the fact that Sam may know -- felt himself harden, and pressed closer to the sink, trying to hide any incriminating evidence. This was ridiculous; Dean had never had an inappropriate thought about a teenager--those girls who lied about their age totally didn't count--and he'd sure as hell never had a sexual thought about Sammy. So why did Jared have this effect on him?

"Okay, that should be good." Jared let his hand rest, warm and soft, just beneath the bandage, low on Dean's hip. Dean moved away and Jared let his hand drop, but didn't step back. "I could take care of the one on your cheek, if you want."

Dean coughed to clear his throat, but nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Let's move to the bed. If you sit by the light, I should be able to see just fine." Jared followed him out with one hand on the small of Dean's back for support. His touch was doing crazy things to Dean's libido though, and Dean half-hoped he could blame it on the concussion. Also, was it his imagination or was Jared trying to seduce him?

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, close to the lamp on the bedside table, and Jared worked himself in between Dean's knees, pushing the towel up.

"So, _not _my imagination." Dean muttered, pushing back the wave of hysterical laughter that threatened to break loose.

"What?" Jared's hands stilled on Dean's jaw, shaking ever-so-slightly, and the look on his face was this crazy mix of worried and horny.

Dean just shook his head, poor kid. "Nothing, sorry."

By the time Jared had covered the cuts on Dean's cheek, Dean thought he'd probably have to race Jared to the bathroom to jerk off. The air between them was thick with sexual tension and Dean just didn't know what the hell to do about it.

Jared let his hands fall to Dean's shoulders, and then just stood there, looking down at Dean like he'd hung the moon.

"Jared." Dean felt himself flush as his voice cracked. "I'm really . . ."

"Yeah?" Jared's eyes became heavy-lidded as they dropped to focus on Dean's mouth.

"I'm really tired, really, very tired."

Jared's eyes cleared a bit and he stepped back guiltily, tripping and falling onto the other bed. He looked vaguely horrified, but then the look of horror melted and Jared rolled back onto the bed, laughing hysterically. Dean watched with a bemused half-smile; laughing was better than crying, any day of the week.

While Jared recovered, Dean changed into boxers (a clean pair from Jared's house) and slipped under the covers of his bed. Jared flopped onto his side, looking at Dean with a soft smile, just enough to cause his dimples to pop.

"Feeling better?" Dean was a little embarrassed by the warmth in his voice, but it wasn't like he could help it.

"Um, yeah . . . sorry about all that." Jared's gaze dropped to the floor and the smile faded. He sighed and stood, heading to the bathroom. "My turn to shower."

---

Dean must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was wrapped in long, lean limbs and someone was nibbling on his ear. He was only disoriented for a moment before he recognized Jared as his overly-affectionate human blanket. Dean was on his side while Jared spooned him -- damnit, Dean was not gonna be the little spoon for anyone.

"Jared," he groaned, bending his head forward to escape the ear-biting. Didn't work too well, since Jared just scraped his teeth along the side of Dean's neck, making him gasp.

"Dean, I know I said I wouldn't do this again," Jared's words were hot against the back of Dean's neck, punctuated by licks and nips. "I'm sorry, but I just can't -- I _need_ to touch you."

Dean bit his lip and pushed his face into the pillow. He knew he had to get up, had to push Jared away, but he didn't want to. Jared pulled back and Dean rolled over to see him removing his shirt in record time. He flung it over his shoulder and leaned back in to Dean, careful of his injured side.

It was light outside now, and from the little that bled through the curtains, Dean could see Jared's flushed cheeks, red and swollen lips, and fuck, he looked drugged. Something snapped within Dean and he growled and cupped Jared's face, pulling him in and devouring his mouth. Jared made this high-pitched, needy noise in the back of his throat; it shot right through Dean and the head of his cock slipped from his boxers, trailing wetly against Jared's thigh.

Dean pulled Jared over to rest directly on top of him, spreading his legs and letting his hips cradle Jared's. Then Dean let his hands wander, finally able to touch as much of Jared's gorgeous skin as he wanted. He ran his hands across Jared's back, kneading his way down and then beneath Jared's boxers, cupping his ass and grinding their cocks together.

"That's it, baby. Shhh, you're good, you're so good. My sweet boy." Dean couldn't keep himself from coaxing Jared along, and God, this whole thing was so fucking _dirty_. Jared moaned as he arched into Dean and finally came, hard, soaking them both. "That's my boy."

Jared panted into his neck for a couple of minutes, recuperating or about to pass out, Dean wasn't sure which. He wanted to let Jared be, but his body didn't like that idea. He couldn't keep his hips still, rubbing his dick in little circles against Jared's hip. Jared forced himself up on shaky arms and smiled dopily at Dean, and Dean wanted to keep him, he really did.

"Hi." Jared's voice was shot, rough and warm and inviting.

"Hi," Dean returned, reaching up to rub a thumb over Jared's split lip. "You okay?"

Jared sucked Dean's thumb into his mouth for a moment, and Dean gaped at him, dumb with want. "I'm good, but it seems like you might need some help."

Dean started to reply, but his words were lost as Jared slid down his body. He propped himself on his elbows and stared at Jared in something like shock as he pushed Dean's boxers down and leaned in to taste Dean's cock.

"Holy --" Dean's breath caught at the first delicate touch of Jared's tongue to the head. Jared was nervous, Jared was obviously a virgin, Jared was quite a bit younger than Dean, but fuck, Jared was the hottest thing Dean had ever had in his bed. He'd barely sucked the head all the way into his mouth -- his hot, _wet_ mouth -- before Dean was ready to spill. He pulled Jared's head back, but wasn't fast enough, and ended up striping Jared's face.

Jared looked a little stunned, but then he got a glint in his eye. He moved up, pausing a few inches away from Dean's face, and smiled sexily (not something Dean had seen before). "Lick me clean, would you?"


End file.
